Her eyes snapped to mine, wide with disbelief and betrayal. She clenched her fists under the table, clearly fighting the urge to swat at me. I offered her nothing but a calm, unreadable smile as I poured her a glass of wine, careful and deliberate with each motion.
"Hades," she hissed through gritted teeth, leaning in slightly as if proximity would make her threat more effective.
I swirled the wine in my glass, the deep red liquid catching the low light. It was not tasty without the blood but I wanted to abstain for her. "I don't recall you being this jumpy during training. You seemed to handle worse without a sound."
Her glare sharpened. "I wasn't wearing a dress during training." She was not talking about the dress.
"Ah." I sipped my wine slowly. "That does change things, doesn't it?"
